"Quarreled again, have you?" Katie guessed shrewdly.
"Not exactly but he's not the boss of me and it's not likely he ever will be."
"I doubt Johnny would agree with that," Katie said. "When you go out walking with a man on a Sunday afternoon, it's inclined to give them ideas. When Johnny looks at you, it's clear he's got ideas aplenty."
"Then he'll just have to get those ideas out of his head," Edith said mulishly. "I'll not be marrying a man who works in a stable."
"It's respectable work."
"I'm not saying anything against him, but if I marry, it will be a man with some ambition. This is a new century and there's opportunities about for a man who looks for them. Just as soon as I've finished my course at Mrs. Lutmiller's Academy of Typewriting and Essential Office Skills, I'm going to get myself a job in a fine office and I'll have a room in a respectable boarding house. I won't need a man to take care of me. I'll be independent. And I won't be wearing a uniform ever again." She flicked a disdainful hand over the starched white apron that covered her gray skirt.
"Well, I wish you luck. But I'd settle for a good man who wanted a home and family."
"You're too old-fashioned, Katie. Soon women will have the vote, you'll see. And then there won't be anything we can't do."
"Perhaps. But in the meantime, you'd better be getting back to work and I've got to give this dress to Miss Ann's maid so that she can press it." She stood up as Edith lifted the tray.
They left the room together, Edith going down the narrow stairway first, stopping to wait for Katie when they reached the hall.
"Now, you won't back out tomorrow, will you? If you do, you'll break my heart."
Looking at Edith's round, smiling face, Katie found it hard to imagine anything breaking her heart, but she shook her head.
"I won't back out. But if they refuse to let us in, I'll say I told you so."
"Well, well, what have we here? As pretty a pair of doves as a man is likely to find." The two girls turned at the sound of the low, overly intimate voice.
Katie didn't recognize the tall, rather thin man who'd spoken, but from the way Edith stiffened, she guessed that her friend did.
"May I help you, sir?'.' Edith's tone was neutral, but it wasn't hard to see that the gentleman found no favor with her.
"May you help me? An interesting question." He smiled at Edith before transferring his attention to Katie. Meeting his eyes for a moment, Katie felt a shiver run up her spine. She'd met her share of wolves during her time in the theater and she'd learned how to put them off. But there was something in this man's eyes that made her uneasy. "You're new here, aren't you, my girl? What's your name?"
"Katie, sir." She dropped a curtsy, keeping her eyes on the floor.
"Katie," he purred. "A pretty name for a pretty girl."
Katie jumped as he put out a hand and caught her chin, tilting her face upward. Dislike flashed in her eyes and she made no attempt to hide it. She didn't try to pull back, sensing that it would only encourage his interest.
"Perhaps I'll see if you could be assigned to tend my room, Katie. Would you like that?"
"I'm here to work on gowns for Miss Sterling's wedding, sir. If you'll excuse me, I'm expected elsewhere."
She moved back, forcing his hand to fall as she turned and moved toward the stairs, aware of Edith following her. Behind her, she could feel the man's eyes lingering on her until she was out of sight. She waited until they'd reached the first landing before turning to Edith.
"Who was that?"
"Joseph Landers," Edith told her. "You stay out of his sight. The man's mean clear through. Gives me the shivers, he does. He's Mr. Sterling's nephew and the apple of Mrs. Sterling's eyes."
Catching the sound of Mrs. Dixon's keys, she hurried down the stairs. "Tomorrow at one o'clock. Don't forget. You promised."
Katie continued downward more slowly, one hand absently stroking the fine silk of the dress she carried. Mr. Sterling's nephew. That meant he was Quentin's cousin. She shivered, remembering the cold gleam in his eyes. Nothing like the warmth of Quentin's smile.
❧
Katie slowed her pace as she approached the top of the hill. Henri's sat perched at the very top of a hill overlooking the bay. The restaurant had opened only eight months before and already it was considered one of the city's finest places to dine.
She reached up to make sure her hat was still straight. It was a lovely affair of light blue silk and Tuscan braid, the crown covered with full-blown silk roses, Plauen Venise lace and taffeta ribbons. It had been a gift from her father—to celebrate a successful opening night. As she recalled, the play had closed only two weeks later. Only a very sharp eye would know that it was last year's style.
She'd combed her hair ruthlessly, forcing it up into a neat puff that framed her face—rather prettily, if she did say so herself.
Slowing to a stop, she glanced down to make sure that the rest of her ensemble was in place. The white brilliantine waist she'd made herself, covering the front with rows of tucking and adding dainty embroidery in a shade of blue that just matched the blue silk of her hat. The high neck was finished off with her mother's cameo brooch. The skirt she wore with it was French blue, made of French voile and box-pleated. She'd trimmed it with narrow bands of matching taffeta that circled the bottom of the skirt. From beneath the skirt peeked the toes of a pair of fashionable side-lace shoes.
All in all, she presented a very stylish picture. Certainly, no one looking at her would think that she was a seamstress. Which did nothing to calm the butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach.
Why had she let Edith talk her into this foolishness? She had stacks of work waiting for her at the Sterlings'. She felt more than a twinge of guilt at the way she'd implied to Mrs. Sterling that it was personal family business that had led to her asking for an hour or two off. If she had any sense, she'd turn around and march right back down the hill she'd so laboriously climbed and go back to work.
But she'd promised Edith, so she wouldn't do the sensible thing. Not just because it was Edith's birthday but because Edith was the first real friend she'd ever had. Oh, she'd met plenty of other girls her age but they'd been from theater families, like herself, and their paths rarely crossed for more than a month or two. By the time she was old enough to consider the matter, she'd grown wary of making friends only to part company. So she'd had plenty of acquaintances, but few real friends.
But in the short time she'd known Edith, she'd come to think of the other girl as a true friend. Edith never failed to make her smile. She was outgoing where Katie was quiet; determined to have a career when all Katie desired was the stability of a home and family. They had little in common but somehow there was a rapport there that Katie had never felt before.
Which was exactly why she was standing here waiting for Edith and her brother to arrive so that they could step through that imposing door and dine among the members of the upper crust.
She heard her name and turned to see Edith puffing up the hill behind her. From several feet away, Katie could see that Edith was not happy.
"Harry can't come," she announced breathlessly as she drew to a halt beside Katie. "He's got to work, after all."
"Oh, that's too bad. And you were so looking forward to this." Katie could only hope that her voice reflected more regret than she felt. The butterflies began to subside as she realized that, without Edith's brother for an escort, they could hardly go to Henri's. But she'd underestimated her friend's determination.
"I'm still looking forward to it," Edith said, setting her jaw.
"But without Harry..." Katie trailed off, reading Edith's intent. "You can't plan on... Edith, unescorted females don't go into restaurants alone."
"Why not?"
"Why not? Because they don't."
"Well, perhaps it's time they did. Besides, not every establishment feels that way. Perhaps Henri's is progressive."
Eyeing the elegant facade, Katie had a feel
ing that "progressive" was not likely to be the tone there. Still, the worst that would happen was that they'd be turned away and then Edith would have to give up this whole idea. She followed her friend reluctantly through the wide door, stepping into a foyer paneled in fine mahogany.
Huge mirrors covered one wall and elegant potted palms made graceful accents in the corners. It looked more like the entry to a private home than that of a public establishment.
"May I help you, ladies?" The gentleman who approached them looked exactly as Katie had always pictured an English butler: lean to the point of emaciation with a long sharp nose that fairly quivered as he examined them. They might have been able to fool most eyes but Katie knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that the maitre d' knew precisely what their place in society was. His eyes skimmed over her hat and she wouldn't have been surprised to find that he could have told precisely how many months out of fashion it was. His disdainful look brought her chin up, even as color climbed into her cheeks.
Seeing that Edith was uncharacteristically struck dumb, Katie stepped forward. "We'd like a table for two, if you please."
She used precisely the tone Mrs. Sterling would have used and the maitre d' blinked, suddenly uncertain of his assessment. On the one hand, his instincts told him that these two young females had no business associating with the exclusive clientele in the dining room. He'd spent years learning to differentiate between real quality and sham. If these two weren't working girls trying to get a glimpse of their betters, he'd eat his hat.
On the other hand, his hat was highly indigestible and there was something in the tone of the small, redheaded one that suggested caution on his part.
"Are you waiting for your escort?" There was a subtle change in his voice, a slightly more placating tone.
Katie arched one brow just as she'd once seen Minnie Maddern Fiske do on stage. "I requested a table for two and as you can see, there are two of us present."
He ceased trying to decide whether they were quality or not. It wasn't worth the risk to just toss them out, as he was almost positive they deserved. He retreated into rules.
"I'm very sorry, madam, but in order to maintain the high standards and reputation for which our establishment is known, we've always made it a policy not to allow unaccompanied females. Now, if you were waiting for an escort..." He let his voice trail off, smiling apologetically.
If it had been up to Katie, she would have nodded and left, grateful to be out without an embarrassing scene. If it had been up to her, she wouldn't have been here in the first place. But Edith had so desperately wanted to dine in an elegant restaurant.
"How very provincial of you," she said, allowing just a touch of a sneer to enter her voice. "I should have known that one couldn't expect the same level of modernity that one would find in New York or Paris."
The maitre d' hesitated, still not certain of just whom he was dealing with. If he offended the daughter of one of the Nob Hill families... Still, rules were rules and he could hardly be blamed for following them.
"I am sorry, madam. But I'm afraid that I do not make the rules. I only follow them." He shrugged, looking regretful.
Katie had to restrain a sigh of relief. Edith could hardly say she hadn't tried. Now they could leave and perhaps go to dine somewhere more suitable.
"Miss McBride! What a charming surprise." Katie jumped at the sound of her name. Turning, she saw Quentin Sterling standing behind them. From the twinkle in his eye, it was obvious that he'd heard at least part of her conversation with the maitre d'. She felt a flush start at her toes.
"Mr. Sterling," she managed, keeping her voice level by sheer force of will. Beside her, Edith said nothing, though her pallor hinted that she might simply faint at any moment. She knew as well as Katie did that if Quentin mentioned seeing them here, it would cost them both their positions. ~
"I couldn't help but overhear a bit of your conversation. Is there a problem, Louis?" He looked over Katie's head at the man who nearly fell over himself trying to reassure him.
"No, certainly not. Not a problem. Just a foolish matter of rules, Mr. Sterling. We have a firm rule forbidding unaccompanied females, as I was just explaining to Miss McBride and her family."
"Well, in that case, it's fortunate that I've arrived, isn't it?" He addressed the question to Katie, who could only manage a weak smile in return. "Naturally, the two of you must dine with me. To tell the truth, I wasn't looking forward to dining alone, so this is really a most fortunate accident."
He didn't wait for Katie to speak but took her hand, drawing her arm through his. Katie felt the touch through the fine silk of her glove and so startling an effect did it have on her nerves that she forgot to worry that he might be able to feel the darning on the fingers of her glove.
Louis led the way through the inner door to the dining room. Katie hardly noted the luxurious thickness of the carpet nor the elegant wallpaper. She nearly forgot about Edith altogether, though a glance across Quentin's body showed her Edith on his other arm. She was vaguely aware of Quentin nodding to one or two acquaintances but he didn't stop to speak.
The table they were shown to sat in front of a wide window with a view of the bay. The weather was clear, and it was easy to see the boats sailing the deep blue waters.
A waiter approached as soon as they were seated. From his deference, it was clear that Quentin was a regular and valued patron here.
"If you'll allow me to order?" Quentin asked his mute companions. While he consulted with the waiter, Katie glanced at Edith, relieved to see that some of the color was coming back into her cheeks. Their eyes met, and Edith gave her a slightly nervous smile.
"I hope you don't mind that I've ordered champagne. I had a feeling that this might be a celebration." Quentin raised his brows in friendly inquiry, looking from one silent girl to the other.
"It's my birthday," Edith got out—the first words she'd spoken since entering the establishment.
"My very best wishes. We must drink a toast."
If Katie hadn't already been charmed by Quentin, she would have been by the end of that luncheon. Not by a word or so much as a glance did he ever indicate that there was anything odd about their presence at
Henri's. He treated both of them with the same courtesy he would have shown a woman of his own class.
He chatted with Edith, listening to her plans for a career and agreeing that it was pity women didn't have the vote.
"In Wyoming, where I have my ranch, women were granted suffrage in 1869. But I have to admit, there are those who claim it was done only to encourage women to move to the territory, to help settle it."
It was the first Katie had heard of his having a ranch in Wyoming. As he continued, it became clear that he lived there and not with his family as she'd assumed. He was only in San Francisco for his sister's wedding and then he'd be leaving. The thought caused a pang of regret. She would rather have liked to think of his being in the same city at least.
It was probably just as well. Maybe Colin was right. Maybe she was letting her dreams become a little too real. She sighed, toying with her trifle. She'd be better off keeping her sights on getting a better position at Mrs. Ferriweather's than on thinking about a man who would soon be gone and who would no doubt forget her the moment she was out of his sight.
Looking at Katie, Quentin wondered what she was thinking. He'd never known a woman whose thoughts were so well hidden. Her friend, once assured that he wasn't going to fire her on the spot, chattered on nine to the dozen. Katie said very little, so why was it that he found his eyes drawn to her time and again?
He sipped his coffee, listening with half an ear to Edith's arguments as to why women should have the vote. The champagne had loosened her tongue and brought a sparkle to her eyes. She was a pretty girl, with wide brown eyes and soft dark hair, prettier really than Katie when you came right down to it. Katie's features were more piquant than pretty, though the rich auburn of her hair served to take her out of the ordinary.
>
There was a quality of stillness about her that set her apart. He already knew all about Edith's brothers and their families, her ambitions. In fact, he felt as if he knew every thought she'd ever had. But Katie said so little. He knew little beyond the fact that she lived with her brother and worked as a seamstress in his mother's home.
When he'd first seen her confronting Louis in the foyer, his first urge had been to come to her rescue. But then she'd put on such queenly airs that even Louis had been set back on his heels. He'd hung back, amused and curious, waiting to see what would happen. When it became clear that she was going to be defeated, he hadn't been able to resist the urge to interfere. It had been worth it just to see Louis scurrying to make up for any rudeness he might have shown. Quentin would have wagered his ranch that Louis was even now trying to discreetly find out just who the McBride family was. The thought amused him no end.
"We really have to be getting back, Edith," Katie said quietly, interrupting his train of thought.
"I know. But this has been truly the best day of my life." Edith sighed, looking around the room as if impressing it in her memory.
"I'd guess there'll be even better days in the future," Quentin assured her. He rose, coming around the table to assist each girl from her chair. Katie hesitated a moment, looking uneasy. "What is it, Miss McBride?"
"I... shouldn't we pay?" she asked quietly.
"They'll put it on my Ml," he told her. "No, don't protest. I haven't had such a pleasant meal in weeks and I insist that I be allowed to count the two of you as my guests."
He shepherded them out ahead of him, his hand resting on Katie's lower back. She felt the light touch all through her, making her feel intensely alive. She nodded regally to Louis as they left, not deigning to respond to his overly conciliatory smile. Her eyes slanted up to Quentin's, reading his amusement.
The weather had remained bright and clear, though the fog would no doubt roll in as dusk began to fall. Quentin insisted on calling a hack, though he agreed to drop both girls off a short distance from his parents' home. It was the first time there had been any acknowledgement that anything unusual had occurred.
Saturday's Child Page 5
